


seeds planted in my garden (tended by your hands)

by matskreider



Series: guys my age [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Daddy Kink, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Vampire Gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 14:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12559292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matskreider/pseuds/matskreider
Summary: The envelope grinds at him, leaving him tense and frustrated. He knew that going wasn’t, in all honesty, all that bad. It was, at most, 20 minutes away, and Pekka only had to stay for an hour to make his presence known and schmooze around with some of the other heads of the local gangs. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Marie, nor was he looking forward to having Juuse possibly exposed to the entire vampire community of Nashville. He didn’t even want Juuse exposed to the Northstars, but that was obviously a moot point now.Pekka doesn’t open it until after practice the next day, after Juuse had already gone upstairs for his pre-game nap. He goes over to the junk drawer and opens it, the gold glitter rubbing off his name on the envelope. He extracts a plain piece of black paper, folded neatly into thirds, and when he opens it he reads the invitation in shimmering gold ink.(social obligations must be kept.cannot be read as a stand alone.)





	seeds planted in my garden (tended by your hands)

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> this has been....a while in coming, if we're being honest. and this is probably not what some of you were envisioning, but i wanted to get this part out there because, while it's not a lot of pekka/juuse action, it _is_ important for stuff that i have planned for later on....
> 
> i do hope that you excuse the increase in oc's, but i needed more characters in order to fulfill the direction i see this story going...in which case....brace yoselves....
> 
> if you haven't read the first one in the series, you can find that [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11118111)

Barely a week has passed since Juuse had gotten taken by Marie when Pekka finds a black envelope in the mail. Tucked between promotional junk mail and bills, the unassuming letter simply has _Pekka_ embossed in it, shimmering with golden glitter. It’s the most extra thing in the pile of mail, and Pekka knows who sent it.

If Damien wanted to contact him about anything urgent, perhaps involving the terms of his stay and immunity, he would have simply called and asked for them to meet in person. A handwritten invitation only means one thing, and Pekka sincerely wished that they had more time.

Seasonally, Damien hosted a meet and greet at Scythe, the vampire only club that he owned in the northern part of the city. It was the biggest purposeful meeting of all Nashville vampires, and it was a duty that went beyond gang ties. Damien hand picked who was invited to go, and Pekka had gotten an invitation every single time, every single year, since he’d moved to Nashville. With the exception of away games falling on the night specified, he _had_ to go. He couldn’t send another in his stead as representation, as he wasn’t affiliated with any groups, and not going was considered a slight against Damien himself. Their friendship didn’t go far enough to excuse deliberate shirking of duties.

The envelope grinds at him, leaving him tense and frustrated. He knew that going wasn’t, in all honesty, all that bad. It was, at most, 20 minutes away, and Pekka only had to stay for an hour to make his presence known and schmooze around with some of the other heads of the local gangs. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Marie, nor was he looking forward to having Juuse possibly exposed to the entire vampire community of Nashville. He didn’t even want Juuse exposed to the Northstars, but that was obviously a moot point now.

Pekka doesn’t open it until after practice the next day, after Juuse had already gone upstairs for his pre-game nap. He goes over to the junk drawer and opens it, the gold glitter rubbing off his name on the envelope. He extracts a plain piece of black paper, folded neatly into thirds, and when he opens it he reads the invitation in shimmering gold ink.

_Pekka,_

_I know that you don’t want to come to these things. You never do. Though I don’t know why, my parties are the best and everyone loves you. Or, maybe they love that you’re European. You answer their questions, though, which is more than I can do. I may own a bookstore but that doesn’t mean I’ve read everything that I’m selling._

_Anyway, you’re overdue for this one, since you were away for the winter’s celebration. And yes, before you ask, Marie is going to be here._

_That doesn’t mean you get to skip. If anything, you should want to come. Prove to her that at least one of you can honor an agreement made with me._

_I’ve also heard from a few others that you’ve finally consummated your ownership over that human. Good. It’ll be easier to protect him now. Why you won’t just feed from him, I don’t know. Maybe you don’t want to hurt him, but, he plays hockey with you. It’s not like he’s not used to getting hurt._

_Either way, we can discuss this further when I see you again. Which will be this Friday, February 3rd, at Scythe._

_I trust you know the way._

_Damien_

Everything in the letter is correct, and though they have a game on Saturday night, it’s not an away game and Damien will see right through that excuse. There’s a few things he needs to do before he can go out tomorrow night. Pulling out his old makeup and clothes, for one.

Figuring out what to say to Juuse, for another.

But if he stays awake for too much longer, he’s going to throw off his routine, and while they may not have a game tomorrow, they have a game tonight. The sting of the loss in Pittsburgh - and _fuck_ Horny - still rankled Pekka, and he needed to get his head straight for tonight. Edmonton. Should be easy.

He folds the letter back up in the envelope and hides it back in the junk drawer, before going upstairs and slipping quietly into his room. Predictably, he finds Juuse curled up in the center of it, taking up as much room as possible.

The younger goalie claims that he doesn’t like to sleep alone, that he doesn’t want to wake up without Pekka next to him, but that only started in the past week. Along with more sex and “I love you”s. Marie may be a power hungry annoyance, but at least she had pushed them closer together. Though Pekka would never tell her thank you.

Pekka kicks off his jeans and climbs into his side of the bed, gently pushing at Juuse until he was forced to roll over and collect his limbs.

With a somewhat cranky groan, Juuse barely waits until Pekka is situated before rolling into his arms. His eyes remain closed the entire time, and soon he drops back off to sleep.

Pekka restrains his chuckle, gently running his fingers through Juuse’s hair. The boy’s scent had changed, though not completely. He still smelled like summer nights and bright citrus, but now he had an underlying note of Pekka’s scent. Damien told him that he smelled like sandalwood and pine, but Pekka couldn’t sense it. Then again, could anyone really smell their own scent?

He could smell that he smelled more like Juuse all the time now, but that was par for the course. He runs his hand gently down Juuse’s back, distractedly, still in partial awe of the amount of trust Juuse put in him. There was love, of course there was, but you can love someone and not trust them. Juuse loved Pekka, just as he loved the boy, and he continuously instigated every touch, every kiss, every embrace. He _wanted_ Pekka, which was both terrifying and calming in it’s own right.

But it was getting later in the afternoon, and Pekka really needed to sleep. So he tucks Juuse closer to him and lets sleep take him.

His dreams are black with gold ink patterns.

* * *

The first period is rife with penalties, not so much with scoring. Neither Cam nor Pekka are intent on giving up any goals this early on, and the team goes back to the locker room at the end of the first 20 minutes feeling stuck.

“The good thing is that we’re not being stupid out there. They’ve gotten three penalties to our one, and we need to keep it that way. I’m not saying you have to play nice, but keep it clean. If their game keeps getting disrupted by their players being idiotic, then we can use that to gain momentum. Now, Austin, I need you to start getting closer. We can’t keep…” Peter’s speech fades into the background as Pekka leans back in his stall and takes a moment to collect himself. He’s feeling good, feeling confident, and he’s successfully compartmentalized enough that he’s not all that worried about the letter nestled in his kitchen. Juuse picks up on that, and reaches over to rest his hand on Pekka’s knee, squeezing slightly. When Pekka looks over at him, Juuse grins at him.

“For someone who’s been so distracted lately, you’re doing great,” Juuse whispers towards the tail end of Peter’s instructions.

“What do you mean, distracted?”

“You know what I mean.”

Pekka briefly wonders if Juuse found the letter, if he’s choosing right now to be the moment he confronts him about it, but instead Juuse reaches up and traces his fingers over Pekka’s shoulder, where a hickey had been only two days prior. When Pekka looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, Juuse responds with a smirk.

“Well I wonder who’s fault that is?” he replies, grinning just enough for Juuse to see the slightly elongated fangs.

Juuse blushes and smacks him as the volume in the room rises. “Not fair.”

“Hey! Finnish commune! If you’re done over there, we have a game to play.”

Pekka flips off Nealer without looking at him but stands and gets ready to go.

The second period goes a little bit more their way. They get two goals, Ryjo and Arvi lighting it up on both ends of the second period. But apparently McLeod hadn’t gotten the memo about not being stupid, because he drew two different penalties in that 20 minutes. Pekka just watched on in amusement, feeling better even after a few close calls.

The next hour of his life goes by quickly, walking away with a shutout and a smile. Several guys suggest going out to celebrate, Juuse among them.

“C’mon, you played awesome, we should have some fun!” Juuse asks him from where he’s already re-dressed, leaning against Pekka’s stall.

“Actually,” Pekka murmurs, looking at Juuse out of the corner of his eye as he adjusted his shirt. “I was thinking we could do something at home. If you want to, of course.”

Pekka can see the exact moment that Juuse understands what’s happening. His eyes widen and his lips part, his blush re-scenting the space around the two of them to something much more pleasant to Pekka’s nose. “ _Oh._ ”

The older goalie just nods, one corner of his mouth curved up. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a definite yes.” And now he smells of a mix of the two of them, his eyes darkened as he goes to shoo the rest of the guys out of the locker room, encouraging them to go have their celebrations.

“Oh, I see, too cool to hang with the rest of us,” PK teases as he takes his leave.

“What, you’ve got something better planned?” comes Wilson’s retort.

Juuse jerks a thumb back over at Pekka. From Pekka’s angle, he can’t see Juuse’s expression, but he would be betting it’s a smirk. “Gonna play some games with my Daddy.”

Pekka ducks his head to hide his own reaction, swallowing back the pleased purr that wanted to escape. He focuses on finishing up getting dressed, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Quit being a tease,” he announces in Finnish, using a casual tone as he approaches. Switching to English, he continues, “We’ll see you guys tomorrow. I just wanna get in bed, honestly.” He slings his arm over Juuse’s shoulders, and he feels the way Juuse’s pulse picks up.

Amidst disbelieving looks from their teammates, the two Finns make their way to the parking garage and head over to Pekka’s truck. Juuse practically dives into the front seat, escaping the chilled February air. Pekka slips in afterwards, taking his time buckling up, putting the key in the ignition, and fiddling needlessly with the radio. It takes roughly 30 seconds of this before Juuse starts whining.

“Come on, and _I’m_ the tease?” Juuse protests, squirming a bit in his seat. “This is the first time you’ve propositioned me and you want to take your _time_?”

“Taking time to enjoy the good things in life is not a bad thing,” Pekka admonishes, looking in the rearview mirror. As the last of their friends pull out, he leans over and pulls Juuse into a kiss, purring softly.

Juuse’s mouth opens against his, inviting Pekka in. His hands come up and slide into Pekka’s hair, pulling him closer as they made out in the front seat of Pekka’s truck.

To be a tease, Pekka slides his hand down Juuse’s body, rubbing his nipples through his shirt just hard enough to get a whimper out of him, before continuing down. But before he can get to Juuse’s belt buckle, there’s a hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from continuing.

“If you start this here, it’s going to end here,” Juuse pants. When Pekka looks down, he can see just how hard Juuse is, how his legs have fallen open and he’s trying so hard not to let Pekka’s hand slide down because if he does, it’s over.

“Are you saying you don’t have a second round in you?”

“I’m saying I want to suck you off in the hallway so bad I can feel it.”

 _That_ gets Pekka moving, sitting back into his seat and putting his car in reverse. By the time they get back home, Juuse’s not the only one more than a little desperate. The look he gives Pekka as he unbuckles himself and slips out the door, headed into the house, is nothing short of molten desire.

Pekka’s going to enjoy this, perhaps more than the shutout.

* * *

Friday morning they go to practice, even though every bone in Pekka’s body is asking him to stay in bed with Juuse, screw the expectations of everyone else. Regrettably, Pekka had to ignore that part of his desires, instead hauling himself out of the comfort of bed and into the real world.

After practice, Juuse stands in the parking garage, his hands dug into the depths of his pockets. Pekka can pick up his nervousness from across the structure, but a slightly deeper breath drawn in through his mouth reveals no one out of place. No vampires, save for him, and practice had been good so there was no reason to be nervous about their teammates. What could have him so stressed then?

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he draws nearer, unlocking the car.

“I just thought of something,” Juuse admits, climbing into the passenger seat.

Pekka waits until the car is started before motioning to Juuse to continue.

“Well it’s just….would other vampires come to our games? Like, our home games? Or our away games, honestly.” Though his tone aims for nonchalance, Pekka can still tell that he’s a little bit nervous.

“It’s always a possibility, yeah. But with so many people in one place, and the sheer amount of _stuff_ to process, it’s not always a reality. It took me a long time to get used to all the chemicals used just in our part of the rinks - I can’t imagine what it would be like in the stands.”

“Is that why you favor going to open air games? And what do you mean, a lot of _stuff?_ ”

“Partly, yes. The fresh air helps dilute some of the smells. But honestly, it’s just a lot to process. Like as overwhelming as any big game can be, it’s dialed up to 10 for us. And if we’re up by where it’s happening - in the crowds, surrounded by people and food and music and all of that - it’s even worse. So yes, in theory, vampires could go, but at the same time, they probably don’t want to,” Pekka explains with a shrug. “It’s just overwhelming.”

Juuse sits back in his seat, fiddling with the air vent until hot air is blowing directly over his fingers. “So it has nothing to do with vampire turf wars?”

“Oh, well, no, it does. I don’t think Damien’s given Bridgestone away to be a neutral zone, and I’m not about to fight for it.”

“But technically it belongs to Marie?”

They slow to a stop at a red light. Pekka turns to look at Juuse while they wait, and reaches over to put his hand on Juuse’s shoulder. “She’s not going to get you there. You’re safe when you’re with me.”

“But what about, like….when I’m not? If I’m with the trainers or whatever?”

“Vampires don’t exist here, remember?” Pekka explains, gently squeezing in reassurance. “They want to blend in. If a human wouldn’t try to break into the players and staff only parts of Bridgestone, neither would they. They can’t just flash their fangs like it’s a VIP pass. If they tried anything - if _she_ \- tried anything, she’d be escorted out. And if she turned it into some melodramatic blood bath, Damien wouldn’t be happy, and neither would the other vampires in Nashville. Or in this part of the country, really.”

The light turns green, and Pekka turns his attention back to the road. “Did that...help you, at all?”

“...Kinda,” Juuse admits, slouching in his seat and propping his knees up on the air bag. “It’s just sort of hitting me all at once how utterly defenceless I am.”

This is the part where Pekka would say that it’s not _completely_ bad, and that Juuse isn’t totally helpless. That the Dracula movies and Twilight novels got things kind of wrong when it came to super speed and extreme strength. But Juuse had already gotten kidnapped, and it was by virtue of good timing and networking that Pekka was able to get him back.

Downplaying his worthwhile anxieties and fears wasn’t the right move to make.  
“I wouldn’t say that you’re _utterly_ defenceless,” Pekka explains. “But I would say that you’re a little bit more vulnerable than the other guys on the team, yeah.”

They pull up into the garage, not wanting to expose the truck to the elements overnight. “Because of you?”

The question is a fair one, but Pekka still hesitates at how much it _burns._ “Yeah,” he admits, his voice a touch defeated. “Yeah, because of me.”

Juuse leans over and touches his arm, his fingers warmed from the air in the car, but colder than usual. Touching Pekka’s winter chilled skin wasn’t helping, but he puts his hand over Juuse’s as well, the gesture more than the temperature, conveying comfort.

“It’s not that I blame you,” Juuse begins, his voice soft. “I’m just trying to...think about what would have happened if I went for a different team or something. Just one of those...philosophical holes people can fall into. It’s nothing against you. You know I love you. I wouldn’t change anything.”

Pekka gives him a small smile. “I know, love.”

“Kay.” It’s a small word, but it means a lot. Juuse leans over to give Pekka a short kiss, before squeezing his arm. “Let’s go inside, I’m cold.”

Pekka follows his example and gets out of the car, grimacing slightly at the way his back twinges when he closes the door. Juuse’s already bounded inside, closing the door behind him, and Pekka waits for a second. He hears Juuse kick his shoes off in the kitchen, then go up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once Pekka knows he’s no longer on the first floor, he goes over to one of the stand up shelving units he has in the garage.

It’s a strange place to keep them, but he had sort of panicked when Juuse moved in. The boy had moved into his room as well as his own, and the clothes that Pekka saved for only special occasions - really anything to do with Damien - had to be moved somewhere else. And instead of choosing the basement like a rational person, Pekka had chosen the garage.

He unlocks the doors with a small black key that looked more like a bobby pin than a key, hanging off his key chain. It opens up, and there’s just an array of black clothing inside. Some jackets offered pops of color - reds, mostly, but some blues thrown in too. But he goes for the tried and true black leather leggings and distressed black tee.

He can hear Juuse coming back down, and he quickly grabs the last two items - boots and a jacket - and throws them into the back seat of the car, tucking the leggings and shirt under his winter jacket. He closes the doors and locks them, just as Juuse starts talking through the still closed door. “Look, I get that you’re impervious to the cold or whatever, but I’m not, and I want cuddles, so get in here and-”

The door swings open and he gets a look at Pekka, who doesn’t have anything physically amiss, but also who has an absolute shit poker face.

“...what are you doing.”

“Um.”

Juuse waits for a moment, before shifting against the door frame, his socked feet peeking out from beneath the sweatpants that Pekka hazards are probably his own. “Is it some big secret that you can’t share?”

“....Um.”

“You really suck at this, don’t you?”

Pekka would have blushed if he could, but he hisses halfheartedly at the accusation, and the feeling of being cornered.

Juuse clicks his tongue and heads back into the house. “If you’re done being cranky, I want something to eat, and we don’t have any leftovers. So get in here before I burn the house down.”

Pekka swallows as the door clicks closed. It’s not _bad_ that he’s essentially attending the vampires homeowner’s association in a club - it’s normal, it’s expected of him.

He just doesn’t want to bring Juuse. Nothing against him, per say, but it would be a lot to ask given recent events.

He steps into the kitchen, kicking his boots off and looking over at Juuse. “What are you making?”

“Eh, I dunno. Whatever I find,” he responds, his voice muffled. He’s digging around in one of the cabinets, his face obscured by the door.

“Just be careful what you find,” Pekka cautions, but darts upstairs before Juuse could counter him. He hears his indignant huff, though, and tosses an “I heard that” over his shoulder.

Once upstairs he puts the clothes on the chair in the corner, covering them beneath a few other extra sweatshirts that Juuse probably pulled out in his quest for clothes to borrow. He pauses as he holds one of them in his hand, the faint lasting bits of Juuse’s scent on the sweatshirt. He holds it up against his nose, closing his eyes.

It calms him, this scent, and wonders how he could selfishly allow Juuse to get involved in this world that offers nothing but pain for him. Through the weirdest set of circumstances, this boy was thrown into the deep end of a world that he shouldn’t have even had access to. Pekka felt that he was to blame, and he sighs as he gently rubs the material of the sweatshirt between his fingers. It’s a small comfort, but one he’s grateful for.

* * *

It works out that Juuse’s hanging out with some of the guys that night. They’d said something about paintball, but Pekka had declined. Juuse had kissed him goodbye, with a promise to tell him all about his misadventures when he got back.

Pekka had simply nodded, but made no comment as to if he’d be awake when Juuse got back. Usually Pekka only stuck around for an hour or so, before making his leave. Juuse sounded like he’d be gone for longer, so he wasn’t particularly pressed to hurry back home.

Or so he convinces himself as he finishes lining his eyes in kohl, capping the eyeliner and dropping it in his cup holder. He shrugs into his jacket as he exits his car, and heads into the repurposed warehouse.

Laser lights were always a personal favorite of Damien’s, that much was evident. The different shapes of light bounced around the packed warehouse, vampires from all different neighborhoods finally able to interact without fear of discovery.

As he approaches the bouncer, he holds up his invitation.

“Nice to see you too, Pekka,” she says, taking the invitation and adding it to the impressively high pile on the ground next to her. The gentle wind only ruffled the edges a little bit, not enough to move all the cardstock at once.

“Always a pleasure.”

“You know where to go, I assume?” she asks, watching him as he steps in.

Pekka comes to a stop shortly into the doorway, immediately looking up at the rafters. There’s a practical mob of vamps on the ground level, those in the middle dancing, those along the edges talking or hoping to get lucky. But at the rafters, there’s the VIP section, marked by the brilliantly gold curtains separating the public from the private.

Damien stands with his hands in his pockets, a gold tie standing out against his blazer. He locks eyes with Pekka, and crooks a finger in his direction, visible even from across the building.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he says to the bouncer, and heads off in that direction. He weaves between partiers, most enthralled with whoever they’ve got pressed against them, but some seem to recognize him, or at least pick up on the way his scent has changed. He eventually makes his way up to where Damien is now leaning against the bars.

“Look at you! You clean yourself up so well,” Damien exclaims, walking over to Pekka.

The goalie hugs him, humming noncommittally. He pauses, however, when Damien’s grip tightens, keeping him in place.

“I trust that you can behave yourself while here, but I don’t think it hurts to reiterate what was in the letter I wrote you. And your boy is quite pungent on you. I believe she’ll get the point, but just in case she doesn’t, you are _not_ to push any buttons. I’m not bailing you out of this one,” the host murmurs into Pekka’s ear.

Pekka nods, not wanting to start a fight, but also knowing that it’s not worth him protesting. As he pulls back, Damien gives him a fanged smile, before turning and leading him into the curtained off area.

The music is muffled, slightly, and inside lounge the heads of the different groups that live in Nashville. All of them are familiar with Pekka’s presence, and know that he doesn’t necessarily pose a threat; but the change in his scent garners attention.

In fact, the room falls silent.

“Oh come now, it’s not that big of a change,” Damien jokes, moving to his high backed chair at one end of the space. He sits with one leg crossed over the other, his arms lying along the arms of the chair. “He’s finally made a move. We’re not here to discuss that.”

The staring continues, but eventually the clustered vamps turn their attention to Damien. Marie remains staring at Pekka, but he doesn’t rise to the challenge, instead folding himself down onto a red cushion beside Mason. He’s aligned with the Wryth’s, a group to the south of Nashville, but he’s not in charge. If anything, he must be there by proxy.

He gives Pekka a cordial nod, before turning back to the front so Damien can begin.

“I suppose the first part of this should be dedicated to the fact that we had a little...mishap last week,” Damien begins, his gaze scanning the room. He lingers however slightly over Marie, but continues until he’s made a full circuit. “I think it goes without saying; any agreement made with me is a _life biding agreement_ . I don’t want to _hear_ of you breaking it and thinking that it won’t be handled. Especially if it’s intra-territory.”

A woman in the back huffs at the instruction. Pekka doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s Marie. “We don’t have to be coddled like children,” she declares, sounding bored.

“If you don’t want to be coddled like children, don’t have petty disputes that are horribly cliche and risk exposing us all to the humans,” Damien snaps back.

“I find that hard to believe. Especially when you - what’s the phrase the humans use? Gerrymandered? - the whole damn city and county so _some_ of us have more feeding grounds than others.”

Pekka senses Mason tensing up beside him, and he braces himself for an age old battle.

“What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” Mason asks, turning to look at her.

“It means what I said. Damien plays favorites, since he died and crowned himself king.”

“ _You_ were the one who wanted the tourist spots because you wanted a changing population to select from. _You_ were the one who didn’t put up a fight when Charlotte asked to expand for us because we _needed_ to to make up for the fact that we have nothing but residential areas. And it was _you_ who had the bitch fit of the century when we asked if you’d like to rotate on a seasonal basis, and insisted that we needed to stay in our own territory. You can check the records on that,” Mason insisted.

Damien rubs his temples from where he’s sitting in his chair, and Pekka wants to speak up but knows that he can’t right now without inciting full on anarchy.

“Where’s your wife, I thought she was the one in charge.”

“I’m her proxy tonight, and right now I think that’s for the best.”

It’s no secret that Marie had been gunning for the Wryth’s territory for several years now, and it was even less of a secret that Marie and Charlotte hated each other’s guts. They’d come to blows more than once, and the last time had been at the winter meeting. Pekka had heard about that one.

It was bloody.

It’s Damien’s growl that breaks the two from their staring contest. Pekka instinctively bares his own teeth in response, but makes no noise, instead just looking at Damien.

“This! Is exactly what I’m talking about!” the host declares, standing from his chair. “We might not all be friends but at the moment let me all remind you that you all owe me. Most of you were around for World War II and I’m not going to mince words when I say that this is much the same.”

At this, he looks to Pekka. “And you...Switzerland in the middle of all of this. Do you have anything you’d like to declare?”

It’s an open question, and Pekka sighs, dropping his shoulders. “Since the last meeting, I’ve had a teammate living with me. He’s human, and he’s mine. I think it goes without saying but I just thought I’d make it clear...to avoid any confusion.”

The room erupts into noise at that - a combination of cheering and questions that makes Damien laugh. Such a sharp contrast to his previous demeanor was actually quite common for the host, and Pekka wasn’t all that bothered.

The sheer attention, however, was kind of bothersome.

Mason elbows him goodnaturedly, a supportive gesture. Xan reaches down from her spot on the couch and squeezes Pekka’s shoulder, laughing madly.

“So are you going to do to him what the old ways dictate?” she asks, gleefully.

Had he been able to blush, he would have. “I don’t think so. Unless he wants it, but some of that can be a little….extreme.”

“You know he’d always be welcome at Lux,” she offers, smirking. Her dark purple lipstick frames her bright white teeth, and not for the first time, Pekka wishes he might have chosen to live in the V.D. But it was too far away from the rink, and he knew that the subculture over there was a little bit….different.

At least the Northstars had to be quiet.

“I’ll be sure to let you know what he says,” Pekka soothes, patting her hand. His skin stands out against hers, and she hums at the contrast.

“Is he a Finn like you?”

“Yes.”

She says nothing, but licks her fangs in a suggestive manner.

Pekka curls his lip, baring his teeth in a passive aggressive manner.

She chuckles, withdrawing her hand. “Okay, okay. Point taken.”

* * *

The rest of the meeting passes by a lot smoother after the Mason v. Marie cage fight. Pekka stays true to his word, and doesn’t incite anything. Though there are a few times where he’s asked by various vamps when he plans on bringing Juuse around, or when his patience is tested by Marie, but he behaved.

All was going to plan, until he got back in his car, and realized it was a fair bit later than he had anticipated. He doesn’t have any worried texts from Juuse, but at the same time he doesn’t know what he’s going to come home to.

Nevertheless, when he pulls up by his house, he sees the living room lights on, and feels guilt settle, cold and heavy, in his stomach. He pulls into the garage, and debates if he should even make an attempt to wipe his makeup off, but ultimately decides it’s better if he just goes inside and faces the music. So he turns off the car and takes a steadying breath, steeling himself. He doesn’t even have a change of clothes in his car, so he’ll have to do this in leather leggings, a distressed t-shirt, and eyeliner.

Great.

Hesitantly, he opens the door, heading inside with a fair bit of trepidation to his steps. Juuse’s sitting on the couch, he can see him out of the corner of his eye, but maybe he can make a run for it and get upstairs before he -

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Juuse’s words cut off all thought of escape. Pekka drops his keys in the bowl by the door and toes his boots off, walking into the yellow light of the lamp Juuse has on. “Um...hi.”

Juuse’s fussing around on his phone, tilting it this way and that, clearly engrossed in a game. “Well where were you? I didn’t think the house needed any food but it’s whatever, if you want middle of the night runs instead of shopping during the day like a normal person,” Juuse chirps.

“Heh, well, what can you say. Sometimes the stereotypes are true. But I think I’m gonna go shower, we can talk in bed, if you want?” he asks, trying to slide back towards the stairs.

“What are you talking about, I haven’t seen you in hours, what could you have done?” he asks, the screen lighting up green as he beats the level. He locks his phone and looks up at Pekka, doing a double take when he sees what he’s wearing. “What _have_ you done?”

“It’s-”

“Is that eyeliner!?”

Pekka winces at the accusation, but nods.

“I...please just explain,” Juuse says, but Pekka can tell he’s trying hard not to start laughing.

“It’s kind of...required. We have these meetings once a season to try to keep us from killing each other, and to work out any sort of problems we might be having. Needless to say, Marie and Mason got real pissy about it, but hey, everyone was happy that I have someone now, and Xan wants to see you at Lux, but that’s in the V.D., so I’m not so sure that’s going to happen, but…”

“Woah woah woah...slow down.” Juuse holds up his hands. Pekka obediently stops, and Juuse presses forward.

“So you went to some...some vampires anonymous meeting? Dressed like that?”

“Well it takes place in Damien’s club, so…”

“And that’s your clubbing outfit?”

“It’s what the club calls for,” Pekka sighs, coming over to the couch and lifting Juuse’s legs, sitting at the end and dropping them back down in his lap. “Damien has a specific aesthetic. It’s partially ironic, given the stereotypes about us. But what can you do?”

Juuse blinks, but eventually slowly nods. “Okay...I know who Marie is, but who is Mason?”

“Mason - you’d like him, he’s around your age, physically - and Charlotte - she wasn’t there - but they’re married and sort of co-head the Wryth’s, who have the southern part of the city, spilling out into the county, a little bit.”

Juuse seems a bit taken aback by this, but nods. “How many groups are there?”

“Quite a few, in the state, but Nashville has only three main ones, with like...three or four smaller ones. They’re irrelevant, really,” Pekka says, shrugging. “The Wryth’s have the most land, geographically speaking, but a lot of it is residential areas. The Northstars’ have up here by where we live, and have a lot more of the touristy stuff. And the V.D. is kind of...between the two? It’s weird to explain without a map.”

“What’s the V.D.?”

“It stands for ‘Vermillion District.’ It’s...basically what it sounds like, for humans. A red-light district, if you would.”

“Wait, wait.” Juuse sits up here, looking at Pekka with a confused expression. “Vampires have...a red-light district?”

“Of sorts,” Pekka explains. “Xan’s taste in clubs is...a little bit less the dancing kind, if you know what I mean.”

Juuse’s blank expression says that he most certainly does not know what Pekka is talking about. Pekka sighs, not wanting to give details, but he does manage to get out, “More along the BDSM kind of clubbing. Exhibitions and such.”

The blush that overtakes Juuse fills the space between them with his unique scent, and Pekka can’t help the little whine that he lets out. “I know it’s a lot but we have a game tomorrow,” he says softly. “And we do need to sleep. But we can talk after the game, if you still have questions?”

Juuse hesitates for a moment, before he nods. “Okay. But can you shower before you get in bed? I don’t want eye makeup all over the good sheets,” he says. His straight face only lasts so long before he breaks and starts laughing.

Pekka huffs and throws Juuse’s legs off of him, getting up and heading upstairs. “You’re so mean to me, I don’t know why I love you.”

“Oh come on, Daddy,” Juuse wheedles, following him while still laughing. “You have to admit you look like an early 2000’s Adam Lambert music video extra.”

“I don’t make the rules of the club, Juuse!” Pekka calls back as he ducks into the bathroom, shucking his clothes and starting the shower.

“That might be true,” Juuse calls through the doorway. “But I’m making a rule starting right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Pekka enquires, turning around to face Juuse. He catches the way Juuse’s gaze darts down, hears how his pulse picks up slightly. “Juuse…”

The younger Finn forgoes verbally answering, instead walking towards his boyfriend. He pulls him down into a kiss that’s hungrier than it has any right to be, and not for the first time since meeting Juuse, Pekka feels the roles reversed.

He’s an undead less than human creation that’s been around for more than 300 years, with cold skin and an even colder past. He’s not supposed to find love, only lust. He’s meant to consume the warm and strong body in his arms, meant to hunt him down and bleed him dry - but here, in this steamy bathroom in their shared house, it’s Pekka who feels snared. If not by the muscular arms wrapped around his torso, than by the soft lips pressing against his own, the familiar blue eyes that greet him whenever he wakes up in the morning, the warm mass of brown hair that tickles his nose when Juuse balls up against his side as they sleep.

He’s caught by Juuse’s everything, and he loves every moment of it.

**Author's Note:**

> no hank again in this one! it's probably because nyr is letting me down in a colossal manner, lmao. there also might be a second part of this ft. juuse going to the club (but whether's it's the bookstore, Scythe, or Lux, who even knows ;))
> 
> come yell at me about these boys (or the rags) on [tumblr.](http://eddieluongo.tumblr.com/)


End file.
